Bringing Papa Home (rewrite)
by OrgyMemberXVII
Summary: FACE Family AU. Eleven years ago, the Bonnefoy-Kirkland family was a happy one until they were torn apart by unfortunate circumstances. Will this broken family ever be repaired? Terrible summary, I know, but bear with me here. Rated M for various reasons.


Matthew Williams, age 16, is sitting at the dinner table with what's left of his family. The table was filled with an uncomfortable silence, like every other night. From what he remembers of family dinners from his younger years, it was a hell of a lot better than this. His twin, Alfred, would endlessly chatter on and on about his day, his father, Arthur, would complain about his day at work while his other father, Francis, would make perverted comments and clever dirty puns that only Arthur would get and blush about. They were fun dinners and pretty much the highlight of Matthew's day. Unfortunately, all good times must come to an end. When he and Alfred were only five years old, Francis left. Matthew still remembered that cursed day as if it were yesterday.

 _It was a fine winter day when it happened. Snow was falling and slowly covering the neighborhood in a thick blanket. Matthew and Alfred were in their room enjoying each other's company. Alfred was playing with his puppets with Matthew, stuffed polar bear, Kumajiro, and plastic alien, Tony, acting as his captive audience. As Alfred told a story through his puppets, there was a sudden shout and the sound of glass shattering on the floor. The brothers jumped and instantly ran to the steps to watch what was happening._

 _Their fathers were standing in front of each other with murderous glares in their eyes with anger and hurt clearly displayed in their features. Arthur was tightly clutching a letter in his fist with tears streaming down his face. Francis was standing in front him with confusion and anger showing on his face. Alfred and Matthew looked at each other then back at their parents. This isn't going to end well._

 _"Answer my question you frog-eating bastard! Who the hell is Emily?!" Arthur shouted with a choked sob._

 _"You should know, you read the letter for yourself."_

 _At that moment, Arthur hyperventilated. He felt as if his world had just come to an end. He crumpled the paper into a little ball and threw it at Francis. He couldn't believe it. His husband. His better half. His significant other. His soulmate. How could he do this to him?! To their family?!_

 _"Why?"_

 _"Why what?"_

 _"How could you do this to me? To us? To our family?! Don't you care about this family at all?!"_

 _"I care about this family a lot more than you do."_

 _"What's that supposed to mean?"_

 _"You drink too much and you stay out at all hours of the night! I'm getting tired of feeling like a single parent! I feel as if you don't love me or our children anymore!"_

 _"I do love you and the boys! I like to unwind after work with a couple of beers! Is that too much to fucking ask?!"_

 _"You can unwind at home with me instead of getting shit-face drunk every night and coming home smelling like beer and failure!"_

 _"Oi! I make sure to come home on time!"_

 _"Oui, when the bar's closed during a holiday! Other than that you practically live there!"_

 _"Enough about my drinking! I want to know why you cheated on me with that whore!" Arthur yelled._

 _"That whore appreciated me better than you do. You're the type that's so used to losing that you take what you've won for granted. Look, I cheated on you and I'm sorry for it!"_

 _"You're not sorry at all! You're only sorry that I found out!" Arthur cried. His knees gave out from under him and he fell down crying. Matthew and Alfred ran to their Daddy and hugged him. Francis was about to hug his husband too but Arthur saw him and pushed him away. "Don't you dare touch me!"_

 _"Arthur-"_

 _"Don't 'Arthur' me! I want you to get out!"_

 _"Ce qui?"_

 _"I said GET OUT! Go live with your whore!" Arthur screamed at Francis. Tears began to well up in the long-haired blond's eyes as his heart swelled with regret._

 _"Where am I supposed to go, mon cher?"_

 _"I don't care! As long as you're nowhere near me or my sons, I don't care where you go. You can go rot in a fucking ditch for all I care! Just leave!"_

 _Francis let out a choked sob as he ran up the stairs to their room and began to pack up. Matthew and Alfred looked at each other with the same look of fear and worry flashing in their eyes. The twins left their father's side and followed their other father up the stairs. When they got there, Francis was packing up his things and quietly sobbing as he did so. The scene the twins were watching every child's worst nightmare._

 _"Papa!" The twins chorused. Francis stopped packing and turned around to see his boys. A sad smiled graced his features as he sat down and patted two empty spaces on the bed. The boys got the message and sat down on either side of their papa._

 _"What happened? Why are you packing up?" Alfred asked._

 _"Boys, when one parent makes a dumb mistake that the other one finds out about, they fight and when they fight, mean things get said and one leaves. That is what happened. I made a mistake, Daddy found out and now he's making me leave."_

 _"How long are you gonna be away for?"_

 _"Forever."_

 _"Please don't leave!" The twins cried as they held onto Francis. The Frenchman held in his tears as he hugged his boys. He didn't want to leave but Arthur was forcing him out the house. He had no choice!_

 _"I may be leaving but that doesn't mean that I won't be in contact. I'll be sure to call when I get a new home and I'll send letters and presents. We'll see each other again, oui? Now Papa has to keep packing otherwise Daddy will yell again."_

 _Matthew and Alfred obeyed their father's wishes and left the room. They looked at each other with a goal in mind; stop Papa from leaving. They both ran down the stairs and stood in front of the front door. They had to keep Papa from leaving somehow. After an hour, Francis and Arthur came to the front door. When the twins came into view, Arthur heavily sighed and bent down to their level._

 _"Boys, please dont make this any harder than it has to be." He pleaded._

 _"No!" Alfred shouted, "Why can't you and Papa say sorry and make up?"_

 _"There are just some things in this world a simple sorry can't fix. Can you both move out of the way?"Matthew moved out of the way but Alfred didn't. He was gonna stop Papa from leaving no matter what. Arthur didn't seem to get what Alfred was doing but he wasn't having any of it today._

 _"Alfred, move out of the way." Arthur firmly said._

 _Alfred shook his head and stayed where he was. The older blond had no choice but to pick him up. Alfred began to kick and scream in Arthur's arms. Arthur met Francis' eyes and jerked his head towards the door then walked away to put Alfred in time-out. As Matthew watched his father's retreating back, something came over him. He had to try to keep Papa home! He had to!_

 _"No! I'm not letting you leave!" The child screamed. Arthur came back to remove Matthew and pushed Francis to leave. Francis didn't leave. Instead, he turned around and bent down to Matthew's level and pressed a kiss to his forehead then gave him a sad smile with tears in his eyes._

 _"I love you and your brother. Never forget that."_

 _With those words, Francis stood up and walked out. Matthew felt panic and adreneline rising in his chest as something came over him. He wiggled out of Arthur's grasp again. Arthur tried to pull him further into the house but it wasn't working. Eventually, Matthew bit Arthur's hand hard enough to draw blood and ran out into the snow when his daddy was distracted by the cut. Matthew heard the car backing out of the driveway and ran after it._

 _"PAPA, DON'T GO! PLEASE! TAKE ME WITH YOU! DON'T LEAVE ME HERE! PAPA! COME BACK!" Matthew screamed as he ran after the car. But it was too late; Papa was gone and he was never coming home. The boy fell to his knees and began to cry. His world felt as if it had come to a crashing end in the course of an hour. Suddenly, his arm was grabbed and saw Arthur looking at him. His face held no emotion as he dragged him back to the house and put him in time-out next to his brother. Matthew didn't care. Losing Papa was ten times worse than a time-out._

Matthew let a tear fall onto the plate that held Dad's excuse of a proper meal. Eleven years later and he's still thinking about it. After Papa left, nothing was the same. It was as if all the happiness that was in this house had been sucked out. Papa promised to be in touch but that cursed day was the last time he saw him. With each day that passed, Matthew wondered about him and how he was doing and where he was. Matthew had hoped that wherever Papa was, hed come back and everything would go back to the way it was.

Ever since Papa left, Dad's drinking took a turn for the worse. Most nights, instead of coming straight home, Dad would go to the bar and drink until the late hours in the night. At first it scared the boys because sometimes they thought Dad wasn't coming home. When he did, Arthur smelled like beer and depression. Other nights to get Arthur home early they'd call down at the bar and tell the bartender to give him a limit for that night or lie about an emergency. This family has gotten so fucked up it wasn't even funny. He wiped his eyes and picked at the questionable meal in front of him. He really wished that Papa would come home Arthur took notice to his son's behavior and frowned slightly.

"Matthew, why aren't you anything?"

"I'm not hungry. May I be excused?" He answered in a soft tone.

"You may not. It's my grandmother's roast beef recipe and I made it with love. Now stay seated and eat this wonderful meal."

Alfred scoffed, "This shit you call meal is only be edible to animals and people with no taste buds." Arthur grit his teeth and hit the back of Alfred's head.

"Sod off! Do you realize how hard it is raising two children by myself?! I have to cook, clean, buy you everything you need, get Matthew to hockey prctice, get you to Eagle Scouts, get you to school, and make sure all of your needs are met! The worst of it is that I'm all alone with no one to help me!"

"You're just pissed because there's no one around here to take care of us when you get shit-faced!" Alfred shouted. Matthew was used to listening tot he two of them fight.

"I have had it with your disrespect! After all I've done for you as your father, is this how you repay me?!"

"All you've done for me was get wasted and make me fend for myself and Mattie!"

"That is quite enough! Do you want to go to bed without supper tonight?"

"If it means not dying an early death, I would be more than happy to be sent up to my room!" Arthur pointed the way out fo the dining room which Alfred was glad to leave. Matthew tried to follow his brother but Arthur grabbed his hand and made him sit back down.

"Don't you dare move until at least half of that plate is gone."

Matthew frowned and ate what was in fornt of him. He didn't want to eat it but it was his only way of being excused from the table. Matthew took a deep breath and ate the food as if he were a death row inmate enjoying his last meal. He finished half of his plate before feeling sick and running to the bathroom to throw up. As he threw up, Alfred appeared to hold his hair back. After Matthew was finished puking, he fell backwards and into his brother.

"Why did you eat Dad's cooking?"

"He wouldn't let me leave until I ate at least half of it."

"What about that creepy albino college guy you hang with? His cooking is decent."

"Gilbert goes out partying on Friday nights. What about Natalya? I think its high time you met the family." Matthew joked. Alfred rolled his eyes and let out an annoyed sigh.

"Oh come on! That was in kindergarten, we're not a thing anymore! Papa was literally right there when she left me for Vash!"

"You never did say why she left you for him."

"He had the 64-pack crayons, remember? Anyone would have left a 32 for a 64." Alfred explained, frowning at the memory. All he remembered form that day was that it was coloring time and Vash brought out a new 64-pack of crayons his parents bought for him. Natalya saw them, told him it was over, and started coloring with Vash. By kindergarten law, if you had a 64-pack of crayons, people were all over you.

Matthew snorted, "Girl had her priorities straight back then."

Alfred playfully shoved Matthew, "Shut the fuck up. Papa told me that it didn't matter how many crayons I had, all that mattered was the size of my heart." Matthew laughed then frowned when he thought about Papa.

Never once in eleven years did Papa ever try contacting them or even visiting. He said he'd call, come by, or leave a Christmas or birthday present; he never did. Matthew didn't want to doubt Papa but his unsaid fear crept into his mind. What if Papa forgot about them? What if he stopped loving them? What if he died? As Matthew brooded ont his, Alfred caught the look and frowned at him.

"Papa's never coming back, you know."

Matthew looked at his brother with disbelief. "He will! When he left he said he'd call us and send us gifts!"

"And where the fuck are they, Mattie? When has he called us? When has he come to visit us? In the eleven years he's been gone, when has Papa ever given a shit about us?" Alfred finished with tears. In the years that Francis has been gone, he'd lost faith in his other father. He began to feel as if he stopped caring about them. Those feelings were only amplified by the lack of calls and visits.

"You never know, Alfred. Papa could have been deported to France and he's really down on his luck."

"Or he got rich and decided that his sons weren't worth shit." Alfred spat out as he stood up and walked to their room.

Matthew frowned and hugged his knees up to his chest. Alfred was always like that whenever Papa came up in a conversation. He just got mad and walked away. Matthew never believed that Papa did any of that. He still believed that Papa cared for them, he was just down on his luck. He stood up and opened up the medicine cabinet to get out something he needed. When he opened it, he took out his medication and grabbed the razor blade it was hiding behind. He took out the blade and rolled up a sleeve to reveal past scars. He twisted his arm to see the patch of skin he hadn't gotten to scar yet. He sat on the toilet and began to cut the skin with ease, not wincing at the pain at all, having been well acquainted with the pain.

"Little cut here, little cut there, no one will see, no one will care." Matthew recited as he cut himself. He picked this up one day when Arthur came home shit-faced. Nasty things were said and those words hurt Matthew enough to go into his and Alfred's room, break apart a pencil sharpener, and cut up his thighs. Of course it hurt, the first time always hurts but as he did it more and more, he got used to the pain. After Matthew got his fill of new scars, he put his blade and medication back in the proper place and put his sleeve back down. Matthew closed the cabinet and went to his room.

When he got there, Alfred was sitting on his bed, playing with his PS Vita. Matthew got in his bed and went to sleep early, not even bothering to engage in conversation. Alfred looked at Matthew and felt like a dick. He should have been a little more sensitive to his brother's feelings towards him. After all, Francis was more of a father to them than Arthur was. Alfred frowned and thought of his f parents. From what he remembered, they were so in love with each other, never separated, always smiling at each other, and always made up after they fought. Alfred put his Vita away and got in bed. He really shouldn't be thinking up depressing shit this late at night. Alfred tried to go to sleep but then Arthur barged in, intoxicated, with a bottle of wine in his hands.

"Oi! You 'sleep Alfred?!" Arthur slurred. Alfred rolled his eyes. _Here we go again..._ Alfred thought as he got out of bed.

"Go to sleep, Arthur, you're drunk."

"Ay! Don't call me Arthur! 'M yur father! Respect meh!" Arthur weakly swung at Alfred but then fall face-first on the ground and went to sleep. The teen grabbed Arthur by his ankles and dragged him to his room. It was hard to have respect for someone who gets shit-faced every night instead of going home and taking care of his children. When Alfred managed to drag his father to his room, he put Alfred on the bed and took the wine bottle from him. He took the bottle to the kitchen and dumped it out. Papa still cared about them? Yea fucking right. If Papa cared, he would have come and gotten him and Matthew out of this hellhole.

* * *

 **Hey guys! It's been a while! So I'm back and with the first chapter of the rewrite! Now in this version, I'm gonna change some stuff around such as aging up people and cutting down on some of the subplots (I already have an idea of which ones I wanna keep and which ones I wanna cut). I hope you guys liked the first chapter! I'll be back with another chapter later! If you liked then please leave a favorite, follow, or review! This is Janae signing off! Bye :D**


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